


Hollow Heroes

by ElphieBLW



Series: Hollow Heroes [2]
Category: Big Hero 6, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU as of the end of Winter Soldier, Claustrophobia, Gen, Not Age of Ultron Compliant, Obligatory Deadpool Cameo at Some Point, Original Male Psychopath, Psychopath Doing his version of saw, Thor comes and goes, Totally fucking with timelines, kidnappings, not civil war compliant, tadashilives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7173902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElphieBLW/pseuds/ElphieBLW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been one year since the Showcase, since Tadashi died. But a trip abroad goes awry within minutes of arriving, and suddenly, Hiro catches the eye of the world's newest psycho.</p>
<p>And he isn't the only one.</p>
<p>Between two Avengers, an incognito Big Hero, and a couple "unassuming civilians", can they find a way out? Or will their friends have to find them first?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, big ol’ crossover here. Big Hero 6, Avengers (and all the affiliated movies), and Amazing Spiderman. Yeah. Slight AU for TASM2 (Peter managed to sit Harry down for a better explanation of why the venom was a bad idea and they made up), but that’s about it, I think? Oh, this is after Iron Man 3 but before Age of Ultron, for fairly important plot reasons.
> 
> It’s highly suggested that you read All They See Is Treason if you haven’t already, as this takes place after it and there’s an important plot point explained in it.
> 
> Also, based on a few things I noticed in the movie (blooming cherry trees in the city while chasing Baymax, the apparent short break/no break between whatever previous semester and the showcase/the semester Hiro would’ve first attended, and probably others that I can’t remember right now), I’m saying the showcase was in late January/early February, and Hiro activated Baymax in late February. This allows the “it’s been a few weeks” comment Aunt Cass has, and is still enough time for him to theoretically catch up before midterms and such. So, I’m having the showcase on January 23rd and placing the majority of this fic in late March.
> 
> This becomes important for reasons. Showcase was in 2014, this is 2015. 
> 
> I’m also saying that the Avengers took place summer 2012 and Iron Man 3 took place Christmas 2013. Tony’s been arc reactor-less for about a year, and rebuilding Avengers Tower took a year and a half. Every MCU movie set before Age of Ultron is pretty much the same, aside from TASM2 (yes, I know it’s technically Sony, but it’s still Marvel, so meh) and Winter Soldier, though mainly just in that, after the events of the movie, Bucky was found and is staying at Steve’s place. 
> 
> There’s a section where characters will be speaking Japanese. To avoid having to label each sentence as Japanese or English, I’ve left Japanese in regular text and English is underlined.

 

**_So please don’t ask me how_ **

**_I ended up at my wit’s end and breaking down_ **

**_Pages torn from books we never read_ **

**_Cause we’re plugged into this grid_ **

**_Don’t pull this plug right now_ **

**_Or then we’d really have to live_ **

 

It was just supposed to be a normal patrol.  In fact, he was more than half done his rounds and ready to head back to help Harry set up a new trial for OsCorp.  Peter Parker, better known at this time of day as Spiderman, swung through the air, latching his webs onto the passing skyscrapers as he went.  His eyes quickly scanned each alley he passed, zapping out an extra web or two as necessary when he caught someone up to anything less-than-legal.

 

He was almost done his loop when he heard it.

 

_“Help!  Please, someone, help me!”_

 

It was coming from an alleyway just up ahead, a woman’s voice, panicked.  He shot a web backwards to make the tight turn, landing in a crouch in the dark alley.  “Hello?” he called, standing and edging his way further down the alley.  “Is someone back here?  Friendly neighborhood Spiderman, here to help!”

 

No matter how far back he went, he just couldn’t see anyone.  He was just about to give up when something crunched under his foot.  He bent down, picking up the device and blinking at it.  There were buttons and wires, and when he cautiously tapped on a button, he nearly jumped at the sound.

 

_“Help!”_ the voice from earlier echoed out, slower and deeper now due to the broken machine.  _“Please, someeoone, heeelllp meeee!”_

 

The device died in his hand, and with it silent, he finally heard the soft laughter behind him.  He stiffened, about to turn, when a new voice spoke up.

 

_“Well, you were certainly easy, Peter.”_

 

He whipped his head around, only for it to snap back when something hard smashed against his temple.  He fell back, wincing and too stunned to move, as the new voice continued.

 

_“Let’s hope the others are more of a challenge.”_

 

**_When I die, will they remember not_ **

**_What I did, but what I haven’t done?_ **

**_It’s not the end that I fear with each breath_ **

**_It’s life that scares me to death_ **

 

Bruce Banner, admittedly, should have seen this coming.  He’d already been kidnapped once while working in India, though that _was_ by SHIELD rather than some lowlifes looking for a payday.  These thugs weren’t even _intelligent_.

 

“Boss _really_ wants this dude alive?” one was complaining.  His buddy had rationed out their food earlier, and Goon Number One wasn’t too thrilled to see a portion being set aside for their captive.

 

“Yeah, he does,” Goon Two replied gruffly.  He was obviously the leader of the three, and had little-to-no patience for dumb questions.  “And I ain’t goin’ against his orders.”

 

Goon One whined.  “But we’re gonna give him the guy tomorrow, he doesn’t _need_ to eat!”

 

The third member rolled his eyes at that.  “Then by all means, _you_ go tell the boss why he’s starving!”

 

Surely paling that quickly was bad for Goon One, but Bruce couldn’t bring himself to care.  “N—No, thanks!”

 

“Then shuddup and eat your food.”

 

The three ate quickly before Goon Three came over to Bruce with a can.  “This one’s yours,” he said roughly, shoving it forward.

 

Bruce huffed.  “Thank you, it’d really help if I could actually hold it myself, though.”  He wiggled his hands, still unable to remove the rope tying them.  Of course, he could always “go green” as Tony would say and be gone within seconds, but he’d really rather not let these morons in on exactly _who_ they had captured.

 

Especially because Tony would never let him live it down.

 

“Hey, there’s the boss now!” Goon One called out.  He waved at a figure that was slowly approaching them.  “Hey, bossman!  We got your guy!”

 

_“Did anyone see you?”_ a cool voice questioned.

 

Goon One shrugged.  “Couple kids, not like anyone’ll believe ‘em.”  He smirked, probably remembering how he’d terrified the two young patients Bruce had been treating at the time of his abduction.

 

_“Really?”_ the voice murmured.  _“Pity.  I suppose it can’t be helped.  Makes this part a bit easier on me, though.”_

 

And suddenly, three short popping sounds echoed through the area, and the kidnappers all dropped.

 

The figure, still in enough shadow to conceal his features, tucked away the gun he’d shot them with.  _“I really do hate to part with money I don’t have to, and I can’t have this traced back.”_   Then, he pulled something else out, another gun, this one shaped different.  _“I also can’t have your_ ** _friend_** _break you free.  Good night, Dr. Banner.”_

 

Another short pop went off, and Bruce’s vision went black, the tranquilizer strong enough to even keep the Hulk at bay.

 

**_When we built these dreams on sand_ **

**_How they all slipped through our hands_ **

**_This might be our only chance_ **

**_Let’s take this one day at a time_ **

**_I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine_ **

**_The time that we kill keeps us alive_ **

 

Tony Stark liked to party.  This was a well-known, indisputable fact.  He often partied too hard, though he’d argue that the party should have kept up with him.  Since settling down with Pepper Potts, however, he’d partied a little less.

 

But only a little.

 

And so, it really shouldn’t have surprised anyone when he was out at a club until some ungodly hour.  And sure, maybe he should’ve stopped drinking two hours ago _before_ everyone started doing shots, but he was _invited_ and it wouldn’t do to disappoint fans and miss out on free booze.

 

So he stayed.  And the party raged on, for once keeping up with him, at least for another hour.  But now, at early’o’clock on a sleeping-in day, he found himself stumbling around more than he should be, party speeding up while his body forced him to slow down.  He’d only experienced this odd phenomenon once before, when he’d been dying slowly from his old power source, but he’d fixed that and didn’t even _have_ the reactor stuck in his chest anymore.  He gave it up.  It wasn’t allowed to mess with him at parties anymore.  It shouldn’t be _able_ to mess with him anymore.

 

So who _was?_

 

Even through the fuzziness brought on by the booze, he could tell that someone had spiked it.  That was the only explanation for the wobbliness, the fog in his head, the fact he could only vaguely remember parts of the night.

 

He’d been drugged, and thoroughly.

 

For some reason, that cracked him up, and he fell into a wall, laughing hysterically as he slid to the ground.  He tried not to think about the dirt and grime he was sitting in, but the fog was doing that for him, replacing the alley streets with a porch in his mind.  He was waiting for someone to come, for a chauffeur, for a friend to help him up and into a car and home to puke in the luxury of his own toilet.

 

Luckily, it didn’t take too long for a car to show up.  “‘Sbou’ time,” he slurred as the driver’s door opened and he fumbled with the handle for the passenger’s side.  For some reason, it kept wobbling away when he reached for it, but finally, he swung the door open and was about to get in—

 

When he was suddenly tugged back and tossed into the back seat.

 

“Wh—Whazzgoinon?” he mumbled, trying to lift his arms or legs or just do _something_ to defend against this sudden, unnecessary attack.  Seriously, who cares whether he’s in the front or back?  He just wanted to get home.

 

_“You’re going to go for a little ride, Mr. Stark.”_

 

Oh.  Oh, that was _not_ a voice he recognized.  The last thought Tony had before blacking out was, _This can’t be good._

 

**_Your words won’t save me now_ **

**_I’m at the edge feeling the sweat drip from my brow_ **

**_“Get a grip on yourself” is what they say_ **

**_Every hour, every day_ **

**_Hands over my ears_ **

**_I’ve been screaming all these years_ **

 

Peter Parker had woken up a few days ago in a dank, dingy cell with no windows, no bars, and just a solid door with a slot for food to come in.  The slot only opened from the outside, so he couldn’t even use that to see where he was, and the “food” was scraps of almost-stale bread and a soaked rag to squeeze water from.  No knives, no forks, no plates.  Nothing to use to escape, unless he wanted to tie together all the rags for a more permanent escape.

 

And so, he resigned himself to sitting in his cell, waiting for something, _anything_ to happen and feeling confused that he had been changed into his civvies from his Spiderman costume.

 

Suddenly, the door swung open.  Before he could even manage to look at who was there, something was flung into him.  The door slammed shut as he was attempting to shove the whatever-it-was off of him.

 

He panted for breath, huffing as he finally turned to look at the thing that had been thrown at him.

 

“T—Tony Stark?!”

 

The older man groaned, rolling over.

 

Peter ran a hand through his hair, wide eyes still staring at the billionaire before him.  “Holy crap, that’s really him….  I’m in a freaking cell with an Avenger!”

 

“Nn, ‘m tryin’a _sleep_ , Pepper…” the man moaned.

 

Peter chuckled.  “You can _not_ miss this meeting, Tony,” he snarked, trying to see how far this would go before the genius caught on.

 

Tony groaned, sitting up and rubbing at his head.  “You’d be singin’ a different tune ‘fya came with me las’… night… wait.”  He glanced around, eyes winced half-shut.  “Dammit, that wasn’t a dream, was it…?”

 

“Apparently not.”  Peter waved around at the cell.  “Welcome to hell.  Meals are sporadic at best and unappetizing.”

 

“Fantastic.”  Tony rubbed his hands together.  “So, how’re we breaking out of this place?”

 

Peter gaped at the man.  “S—Seriously?  We _can’t_ , dude.  No bars, no windows, no way out.”

 

Tony scoffed, waving a hand dismissively.  “I’ve been in worse situations.”

 

“Really?  _Without_ any access to your suit?”  Because Peter had noticed the distinct lack of a glowing light on the man’s chest.

 

The billionaire scowled.  “…Who says I can’t access it?”

 

“If you could, I think you would’ve by now.”

 

The man jabbed for a moment at his forearms, glaring when he received no response from his implants.  “…Dammit….”

 

“Yep.  So, again, welcome to hell, population us.”

 

**_When I die, will they remember not_ **

**_What I did, but what I haven’t done_ **

**_It’s not the end that I fear with each breath_ **

**_It’s life that scares me to death_ **

 

It had been nearly fourteen months since the John Doe was brought in to Santa Rosawa General Hospital.  He was in a coma, unclaimed by family or friends, and taking up a bed in their recovery ward.  The burns on his arms, legs, and chest were healed, slightly pink scars marking where the worst had been.  In just over a year, there had been no sign of his waking.

 

Until today.

 

When the nurse walked in to his room to check on him, she saw him sitting up, glancing around the room, obviously confused.  Her clipboard clattered to the floor.

 

Warm brown eyes turned towards her, and the man gave a slight smile.  “Sorry,” he croaked, voice rough from a year of disuse, “didn’t mean to spook you.”

 

She quickly snatched up her clipboard and approached his bedside.  “It’s no trouble,” she assured, clicking a pen to take notes.  “I have a few questions I’ll need you to answer, if you can.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Okay, can you tell me your name?”

 

“Tadashi Hamada.”  His coma-slowed tongue tripped over the syllables.

 

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but she noted his answer, crossing out John Doe at the top of his file and replacing his name.  “Any family we should notify?”

 

His eyes went wide.  “Oh, Aunt Cass!  She’s probably eating her way through the café’s inventory!”

 

“That would be Cass Hamada?”

 

He shook his head.  “Ah, no, um, Cassiopeia de Gaia, actually.  Maternal aunt.  She took my brother and I in after—”  He trailed off, eyes widening again before his head whipped around to stare at her, eyes pleading.  “My brother!  Hiro, is Hiro okay!?”

 

The nurse raised her hands, palms out, trying to calm him.  “I’m sure he’s fine, just worried for you.  I have a few more questions yet, then I’ll go inform your aunt and brother, okay?”

 

“O—Okay,” he murmured, reclining back in the bed once more, “okay.”

 

“What is the last you remember?”

 

His brow furrowed as he thought back.  “Ah, there—there was the showcase, and—and a fire….”  He gasped softly, staring up at the ceiling.  “I—I ran in, to—to help the professor get out….  My brother, Hiro, he—he tried to stop me.”  He glanced back at the nurse, worried once more.  “Is he here, too?  Are you sure he’s okay?”

 

“Yes, I am.”  The story was sounding more and more familiar to her, and she wrote down what he said before pausing and studying him.  Finally, she sighed and asked, “Tadashi, do you know what the date is?”

 

He blinked at her.  “Um, it’s… January 24th, right?  Unless I was out for more than a day….”

 

The date was what finally brought all the pieces together, but to make sure….  “What year is it?”

 

“Uh, 2014?”

 

She gulped, knowing she’d now have to explain his situation to him.  “Mr. Hamada, it’s actually March 24th.”

 

His eyes went wide, a hand running through his hair with a wince.  “Ah, man, I’ve only got a couple days to get something for Hiro’s birthday….”

 

“Um, Mr. Hamada?”

 

He shook his head, glancing back at her.  “Sorry, yes?”

 

“…It’s 2015.”

 

**_When we built these dreams on sand_ **

**_How they all slipped through our hands_ **

**_This might be our only chance_ **

**_Let’s take this one day at a time_ **

**_I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine_ **

**_The time that we kill keeps us alive_ **

 

“Did you pack Baymax’s charger?”

 

Hiro Hamada huffed at his aunt’s incessant questions.  “Yes, Aunt Cass!”

 

“Did you—?”

 

“I have Baymax’s charger, all my tech and _their_ chargers, my clothes for a _month_ rather than just a week since you insist that I don’t know what the weather will be or where we’ll be going, my passport, my plane tickets, my project journals, _and_ three extra pairs of shoes, which is a _little_ ridiculous since I’ll not be wearing any shoes inside Baachan and Jiichan’s house, anyway!”

 

Cass hid a grin at the impatient look on Hiro’s face as he tapped his foot and crossed his arms at her.  Finally, she gave up and lunged over, hugging him tight.  “Oh, my little baby’s growing up so fast!”

 

“Aunt Cass!”

 

She released him, but held onto his shoulders, still surprised that he was now an inch taller than her.  “You behave for your grandparents, okay?”

 

Hiro smiled back at her.  “Don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

 

“And remember that Baymax needs to be in his charger during the flight.”

 

“I know, Aunt Cass.”

 

She tugged him in again.  “Last hug,” she murmured, “and have a happy birthday, okay?”

 

He finally reached up to hug her back.  “Thanks, I will.”  They let go, and he kissed her cheek.  “I’ll miss you, Aunt Cass.”

 

She waved as he left, the large white robot following him out.

 

**_We came in search of answers_ **

**_We left empty handed again_ **

**_Shots fired into the sky_ **

**_Are now returning_ **

**_Where the fuck will you hide?_ **

 

Tadashi spent the next few minutes panicking before the doctor entered and gave him a shot to calm him some.  Through the slight fuzziness, Tadashi watched as the man took his vitals, made some notes, and pushed in a wheelchair.  He helped the patient into it, then began wheeling him down the halls.

 

“W—Where’re we goin’?” Tadashi slurred, vaguely thinking he probably shouldn’t be quite so out of it.

 

“Have to run some tests.”

 

Yet a confused, quiet part of Tadashi’s mind pointed out that tests are done _inside_ and they were now _outside_.

 

_“This is him?”_ a voice was murmuring.

 

“Yes,” the doctor answered nervously.  “He confirmed when he woke up.”

 

Maybe he was going home now?

 

_“Well?  Hand him over.”_

 

“I—I don’t think—”

 

_“Really?  You’re going to back out_ **_now?_ ** _Need I remind you, a single phone call and your wife knows about your little affair.”_

 

That… that doesn’t sound like something someone he’d want to leave with would say….

 

“She already does.  I told her last night.”

 

_“I know where your family lives.  I know where your children go to school.  Give me the kid, or I’ll slit your children’s throats.”_

 

Yeah, definitely did _not_ want to go with this guy.  Whoever this guy was.  He sounded mean.

 

But… did he really want to be the reason why the doctor’s kids were hurt…?

 

“Y—You—Why—?”

 

_“Just hand him over._ **_Now._ ** _”_

 

And suddenly he was being wheeled forward, the doctor whispering to him, “I’m sorry, please know I didn’t want this to happen.”

 

He was then wheeled up into a van, chair locked in place, before he heard behind him, _“I’ll tell your kids that you traded your life for theirs.”_

 

“Wha—?”

 

A soft popping noise cut off whatever the doctor was going to say, shortly followed by a pinch in the back of Tadashi’s neck.

 

As the van took off, Tadashi slumped down, drug knocking him back into unconsciousness.

 

**_Hiding from the laughter in the closets of our lives_ **

**_But the door hinges are squeaking letting in thin shards of light_ **

**_And now a hand’s extending outward_ **

**_Quiet comfort they invite_ **

**_Do we dare take what they offer?_ **

**_Do we step into the light?_ **

 

“Moshi moshi,” Cass cheerfully greeted whomever was calling her, phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she continued to bake tomorrow’s specials.  “You’ve reached Cass at the Lucky Cat Café, how may I help you?”  It was a standard response, one she’d taught both her nephews so she wouldn’t need to get a second landline for the business.  They simply greeted every caller as though they were calling the café.  Their friends either didn’t care or would interrupt the unnecessary message, and it often discouraged survey-takers or salesmen from bothering them.

 

_“Ah, this is a Ms. de Gaia?”_ a female voice questioned.

 

Cass blinked.  Not many people were formal with her, given she mostly served regulars and was well-known in the community as mothering to anyone who came in.  It usually only took a meeting for strangers to be comfortable calling her Cass or even Aunt Cass.  “Um, yes.  Who is calling?”

 

_“This is Nurse Aja Rodrigo, from Santa Rosawa General, calling to inform you about your nephew.”_

 

The brunette nearly dropped the phone, instead losing her grip on the tray she’d just pulled from the oven.  “ _WHAT!?_ ” she shrieked, clutching the phone desperately.  “N—No, I—I _just_ sent Hiro off to the airport, he—he _can’t_ be— _what the hell happened?!_ ”

 

_“Um, m—ma’am?  I’m talking about Tadashi, not Hiro.”_

 

The world froze for a moment.  Cass was suspended, feeling like she was floating away and staring down at her body.  There was no way, _no way_ , that they were talking about Tadashi.  He died over a year ago.  They—They held a _funeral_ for him.  Hiro spent a _month_ barely eating or moving from his grief.

 

She would _not_ put him through that again if this was a mistake.

 

_“Ma’am?”_

 

Cass shook her head to clear it.  “You—I—T—Tadashi died,” she mumbled.  “How could—?  How—?”

 

_“We had a John Doe who arrived at the hospital last year with severe burns and in a coma.  He’s just woken up, and told us his name is Tadashi Hamada and to contact you, ma’am.”_   There was a slight pause, obviously as a way to allow Cass to process this, then, _“Visiting hours are until nine.”_

 

“I—I’ll be there in an hour,” she murmured, grabbing her keys and flipping the “open” sign to “closed”.

 

If Tadashi really was alive, Cass’d hug him to death (and likely pinch his ear for putting them through all this).

 

If he wasn’t and this was some mistake, she’d make her fury known.  No hospital would cause her family more heartbreak.  Not while she was alive.

 

**_When I die, will they remember not_ **

**_What I did, but what I haven’t done_ **

**_It’s not the end that I fear with each breath_ **

**_It’s life that scares me to death_ **

 

Hiro had managed not to freak out too much on the cramped plane.  He had an aisle seat near the middle of the cabin, plenty of leg space, and a couple melatonin pills to help him sleep through most of the eleven and a half hour flight.  According to Baymax, these would also, hopefully, help with the jet lag.  The last thing he wanted was to spend a day of his trip sleeping rather than seeing the sights and visiting with his grandparents.

 

He shook his head to clear it as the PA announced that they had safely landed and the passengers gave a polite applause.  Hiro stood as quick as possible, grabbing his small carry-on bag from under his seat and getting in the growing line to exit the death tra—uh, plane.

 

Once inside, he angled towards baggage claim, finding his suitcase and pulling to the side to open it and dig out Baymax’s charger.  With a muttered, “Ow,” Baymax inflated before him.

 

“Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion.  We appear to have landed in Osaka International Airport,” the robot stated in his usual monotone.

 

Hiro grinned up at him.  “That we did, buddy.  We’ve got a couple minutes before the next monorail comes, and we’ll pick up the Takarazuka line in Hotarugaike Station.”  He zipped up his bag, waving for Baymax to follow.  “I _really_ want to grab some snacks before we leave, it’s about a half hour walk from Ikeda Station to Jiichan’s house. ”

 

After grabbing some snacks, wherein Hiro fumbled over his Japanese for a moment before slipping fully into his first language, they were aboard the monorail for the short trip over to their connecting station.

 

“Jiji wa jinja no tonari ni sunderu,” Hiro commented to Baymax, only to see the robot tilt its head slightly.  “Doushita?”

 

Baymax blinked.  “My Japanese translator is malfunctioning.”

 

“Omae no—?  Oh!  Ah, s—sorry,” Hiro murmured.  “Guess I forgot to check that before we came.  I’ll try to remember to switch to English, but Baachan and Jiichan’s English isn’t so good.  I’ll translate for you until I can fix your programming.”

 

“That would be satisfactory.”

 

“Anyway, what I was saying was, Jiichan’s house is by a shrine, so they’re kinda out from the city.”  They quickly stepped off the monorail with the other passengers as it stopped at the station.  Hiro glanced around briefly before leading the way to their next connection.  “It’s only two stops on this train, then we have to walk the rest of the way.”

 

Baymax nodded.  “This is the half hour walk you mentioned?”  At Hiro’s affirmative, he added, “Is the way safe?”

 

Hiro blinked at him.  “Safe?  Ah, I mean, it’s through the edge of the city, but it should be fine?”  The teen waved a hand.  “Anyway, it’s not _that_ long of a walk, and I’m probably exaggerating.  It’s been a while since our—since I last visited, so I’m probably remembering the time wrong."

 

“Hiro, are you alright?” Baymax questioned as he noticed the sudden downturn of his patient’s lips at his mistake.

 

“Ah, y—yeah.  Just… last time I was here, I was with Tadashi….”

 

Baymax quickly pulled Hiro into a hug, resting his head on the teen’s and patting him.  “There, there.”

 

Hiro chuckled, patting the robot’s arm.  “Thanks, Baymax, I’m good.”

 

And just in time, as their stop was called.  The two exited the train, and Hiro glanced around for a moment to get his bearings before starting off.

 

The first ten minutes of walking was fine, strolling along past shops and eateries, taking their time and window shopping a bit.  Then, they slowly crossed over to the edgier side of town, reminding Hiro of the back alleys he used to bot fight in.  Hell, one of the locals even looked like the last guy he beat!

 

Wait….

 

“Kuso,” Hiro hissed as he did a double take at the man.  He ducked his head down, digging his shaking hands into his pockets.

 

“Hiro—?”

 

“ _Sssh!_ ” he hushed the robot, picking up his pace just a tad.  “That guy back there— _don’t look!_ —is called Yama.  He’s part of the yakuza back in San Fransokyo, and I _kinda_ ticked him off last year…. ”

 

“I am sure he has forgiven you,” Baymax soothed, voice a few decibels lower than normal.

 

“Ah, I’m fairly sure he _hasn’t_.  Yakuza don’t forgive and forget, Baymax.  They usually _get even_.”

 

"That we do.”

 

If the voice hadn’t jerked Hiro to a stop, the tug on the back of his hoodie sure did.  He yelped as he nearly fell over backwards from the force before he was spun around and pulled upwards to be nose-to-nose with Yama himself.

 

“Ah, h—hi?” Hiro mumbled, grinning nervously.  Baymax was tottering behind, confused because they were speaking Japanese rather than English, but he was starting to realize something bad was going on.  “What brings you out here?”

 

“Got a tip that I could find someone who crossed me here.  Turns out it was true.”

 

Hiro’s hands fumbled and lost their hold on the large man’s arm from where he’d been trying to break free.  “A—Ah, ano, now’s not really the best time—”  He cut off with a gasp as Yama shoved him into a wall.

 

“You’re gonna _make_ time, kid.”

 

A repetitive, quick thudding echoed back from the mouth of the alley, followed by a few cries as Yama’s back up suddenly found themselves on the ground.  A blur slammed into Yama, knocking Hiro loose.

 

“ _Nigero!_ ”

 

Hiro immediately followed the order, grabbing Baymax’s hand to drag him along as he ran from the alley.  Once they were a few blocks away, Hiro considered it safe and dropped his hold, leaning against a wall and panting.

 

“You appear to have overexerted yourself,” Baymax commented.  “Recommendations are rest, water, and a gradual increase in future exercise to prepare for such exertions.”

 

The teen waved off the robot, huffing a couple more times before pushing off the wall and glancing back.  “Daijoubukashira?” he mumbled, worried for the blur that had helped him.

 

“Daijoubu, arigatou.”

 

“IYAAAA!”  Hiro leapt nearly a foot off the ground at the reply, spinning on his heel to see a man, about the Nerd Squad’s age, leaning against the wall further down.  He placed a hand over his heart, hissing in Japanese (partly to keep Baymax from attempting to use his defibrillators again), “Don’t sneak up like that!”

 

“Gomen, gomen,” the man chuckled, shaking his head and making his bright red hair flutter about.  Golden eyes locked onto Hiro.  “You in trouble with the yakuza, ne?”

 

The teen blushed.  “Ah, sorta, I guess?  More hustled their leader once without realizing he _was_ yakuza….”

 

A brow quirked up at that.  “Hontou?”  The guy obviously didn’t believe him.

 

“Hontou dayo!” Hiro huffed, crossing his arms.  “It was all a big mistake!”

 

“What’s this marshmallow-y thing?”

 

Hiro blinked, realizing the man was now over by Baymax and poking at the vinyl.  “Ah, don’t!”  He shooed the man back a few steps, checking over the area he was poking to assure that there were no tears.  “This is Baymax, a healthcare robot.”

 

“Iine,” the man breathed.  “He can heal people?”

 

“For the most part, yeah,” Hiro answered, shrugging.  “There’s a few injuries he’s not equipped for, but he’s programmed with over ten thousand medical procedures and can at least keep someone stable until they either get to a hospital or an ambulance arrives.”

 

“Urayamashii,” the man mumbled.

 

The teen’s brow furrowed.  “Uh, I guess?  I mean, my brother more wanted him to be a precautionary— _GUWAA!!_ ” Hiro yelped when he looked up and saw the gun aimed at him.

 

“Please return your weapon to its holster,” Baymax requested.  He was toddling forward bait before the man turned a second gun on the robot.

 

“No, Baymax!”  Hiro looked back to the man, pleading, “Let him go, he’s harmless!”

 

“I know kara—”

 

“ _Shut up, Baymax!_ ” Hiro hissed.  He shifted to stand in front of the robot, holding a hand out to the man with the guns.  “Look, I—I can deactivate Baymax, he won’t be able to alert police or anything, just—just, please, put the guns away!”

 

The man responded by cocking his weapons.

 

“Hiro—”

 

“ _I am satisfied with my care!_ ”

 

The robot blinked, but deactivated, head dipping down and eyes dimming in lieu of returning to his charger.  The man stowed one of his guns, but kept the other trained on Hiro.

 

“Get on your knees,” he demanded.

 

Hiro slowly dropped down, keeping his eyes locked on the man.  If he could just find an opening, he knew he could disarm the man and possibly get away.  Baymax could be reactivated in the fight and help, even.

 

Sure enough, the man approached, keeping his gun in front of him and getting ready to tie Hiro up, given he’d just pulled some rope from his pocket.  As he glanced down to find the end of the rope, Hiro struck, pushing the hand holding the gun to the side and throwing a punch with his free hand.

 

The gun went off, ricocheting off a wall and into the air.  The redhead dodged the punch, ducking and throwing his own as he came up.  Hiro jumped back, narrowly missing the blow, and spun to kick out, twisting and jumping over the gun hand as he did and forcing the man to drop the weapon.

 

It didn’t seem to bother him much, though.  In fact, it just gave him another free hand to punch with, and he sent it at Hiro’s face.  The teen blocked it and kicked out again, knowing his leg strength was better than his arm strength.  The redhead rolled with the blow, spinning forward to deliver his own kick, throwing the teen into a wall.

 

Hiro hissed, grabbing at his stomach and side, but somersaulted backwards to avoid a knock-out blow.  He kipped up to standing and jumped over another kick, using the momentum to deliver a roundhouse kick.  The man was pushed back a bit, and both paused for a second, panting, before Hiro lunged forward into a double U-punch.  Both landed, and the redhead was forced back another step, but his hand reached down to his second gun, pulling it on Hiro.

 

The teen froze, stopping in a back stance as he was readying for another attack.  He had an arm up in front of him, the other resting at his hip.

 

The man chuckled lightly.  “You put up a good fight, kid, but—”

 

“Minna daijoubu?”

 

Hiro’s eyes went wide at the voice, head swiveling to face the entrance to the alley, where a girl a year or two younger than him was rounding the corner.  She stopped, her own eyes wide, when she saw the scene before her.

 

“N—Nani?!”

 

The redhead was smirking, watching the girl from the corner of his eye before looking to Hiro, threat written plainly on his face.

 

“No,” Hiro breathed.

 

The gun swung to aim at the girl, hammer pulled back and finger on the trigger.  The redhead’s eyes were locked on Hiro rather than the terrified bystander.

 

“Come with me,” he said in English, with no distinguishable accent, “or the girl dies.”

 

Either she knew English or understood enough about the situation to realize what was said, because tears began to fall from the girl’s eyes, and she slumped down to her knees.  The gun moved just slightly, staying trained on the spot right between her eyes.

 

Hiro glanced over at the girl, knowing the man wasn’t bluffing.  There was no way he’d manage to either deflect the gun or get to the girl in time.

 

He had no other choice.

 

“Fine,” he agreed, “I’ll go with you.”

 

“Good choice.”  The man was back to Japanese, and the girl sighed in relief even though the gun had yet to move.  A van pulled up to the opposite end of the alley, and the redhead motioned with his head for Hiro to get inside.

 

The teen followed the directions, too concerned for the girl to attempt an escape.  The co-conspirator who’d thrown open the van’s side door hopped out just long enough to grab the still-deactivated Baymax and toss the robot inside behind Hiro.  The driver quickly tied up the teen’s hands, then got back to his seat.

 

Hiro glared out at the redhead.  “I’m in, let her go.”

 

The man walked up to the van door, not wavering his aim.  “Wish I could, kid,” he whispered, ensuring that the girl couldn’t hear what his plan truly was, “but given she’s seen my face and I’m trying to lay low—”

 

_BANG_

 

As the newly-made corpse fell backwards, the redhead hissed, “Next time, don’t bother fighting, and no one will get hurt.”

 

Then, he gave a slight smirk, turning the gun on his assistant.  “Sorry, only room for two back here with the robot.”

 

“Na—?!”

 

_BANG_

 

The door slammed shut and the van took off, Hiro still staring, wide-eyed, as the image of the two corpses—two people _he’d_ caused to die—burned itself into his mind.

 

**_When we built these dreams on sand_ **

**_How they all slipped through our hands_ **

**_This might be our only chance_ **

**_Let’s take this one day at a time_ **

**_I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine_ **

**_The time that we kill keeps us alive_ **

 

Tadashi moaned, head lolling forward.  He was moving for some reason, but in a chair?  A wheelchair.  And he was _really_ out of it.  What the hell had the doctors given him?

 

A slight chuckle echoed around him, and he realized he was blindfolded.

 

“Wh—Who’s there?”  When he received no reply, he then demanded, “Where… where are w—we?”

 

_“Heading to your new home.”_

 

“M—My wha—?”

 

A door creaked open before them, and Tadashi’s chair was tipped forward, tossing him into the room.  The door slammed shut behind him, and he groaned, trying to roll over or get his feet under him.

 

“Ah, h—here, I can—”

 

Tadashi jerked, hissing in pain as it pulled old burn scars, falling back from whoever had spoken.  “Wh—Who are you?!”

 

“My name’s Dr. Banner,” the man replied.  “I was brought here a few days ago.  Well, by my estimation, it’s been a few days….”

 

“And… where, exactly, _is_ here?” Tadashi wondered, fumbling with the knot on the blindfold.

 

“That’s currently the million-dollar question.”  A few steps came closer, the man murmuring, “Here, let me get that blindfold off.”

 

Tadashi instinctively tensed, but relaxed as he realized the man was in the same situation as him and likely just wanted to help.  “O—Okay, I guess….”

 

The blindfold slipped off, and Tadashi blinked up at the older man.

 

A slight grin crossed the man’s face.  “There.  Now you can see for yourself.”  He waved around at the small, dank space.  “Homey, right?”

 

Tadashi continued to blink, trying to adjust to the dim lighting, and mumbled, “Nah, this is _better_.”

 

Banner sighed.  “If only it were a little smaller, that’d be perfect,” he snarked.

 

The Asian-American gave a shrug, slowly coming around from whatever he’d been drugged with.  “Can’t have everything, right?”

 

Banner shuddered.  Maybe claustrophobic?  “In any case, meals are few and far between, so rationing’s a good idea.”

 

Tadashi smirked over at him.  “You _have_ been here awhile, haven’t you?”

 

“I’ve been in survival situations before.”

 

The young adult winced.  “Great….”

 

“What’s your name?”  At Tadashi’s confused look, Banner added, “Apparently we’re gonna be stuck here for a while, I’d like something better to call you than ‘kid’.”

 

“Wouldn’t be the first time….”  Tadashi held out a hand.  “T—Tadashi Hamada.”

 

Banner blinked, taking the hand and shaking a bit slowly, distracted.  “Hamada…?  I _know_ I’ve heard that name somewhere….”

 

The college student sighed.  “Ever been to San Fransokyo?”

 

“Right.  Your family is rather popular for their robotics work, yes?”

 

Tadashi rolled his eyes.  “A bit, yeah.”

 

Then, Banner frowned.  “Wait, there’s a building in the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology in your name.  You… you died in a fire, or something…?”

 

Tadashi chuckled.  “Yeah, apparently I survived?”

 

“Right.”  The man sighed, then seemed to remember something.  “Oh, my full name’s Bruce Banner, by the way.  You gave me yours, only fair.”

 

“Heh, thanks.”  Tadashi blinked.  “Wait… aren’t you…?”

 

“Green part-time?”  Bruce smirked, trying not to miss Tony.  “Yeah, that’d be me.  You can see why I love the cozy setting.”

 

“Yeah, I bet your other half _loves_ it.”

 

The man sighed.  “I could’ve left days ago, but whatever was in the tranq I was hit with is making the Big Guy sleep.  And I can’t seem to get him up no matter what I do.”

 

Tadashi gaped.  “This—This guy, whoever he is, managed to knock out the _Hulk?_ ”

 

“Yeah….  Any chance we can discuss something else?”  Bruce was avoiding eye contact, obviously uncomfortable.

 

“Yeah, sure.”  Tadashi sighed, staring through a wall as he vaguely remembered the nurse at the hospital.  “Y’know, I had just barely woken up when I got snatched.”  He glanced over at Bruce.  “I was in a coma, apparently, but I woke up and was conscious enough to tell them who to contact.”  He groaned, burying his head in his hands.  “Ah, man, Aunt Cass is gonna freak….”

 

“That you’re alive?  Or that you’re gone again?”

 

The younger man rolled his eyes.  “Given there’s basically no proof I was even _there_ since they had me listed as a John Doe?  She probably will think there was some mix up and she was contacted by mistake.”

 

“Ouch,” Bruce winced in sympathy.  “Is she your only family?  I thought there was another of you robotics prodigies.”

 

“That’d be my knucklehead of an otouto.”

 

“Right, um, H—Heno?  Or something like that?”

 

“Not bad,” Tadashi allowed, “but it’s Hiro.”  He sighed, staring up at the ceiling and running a hand through his hair.  “Man, I _really_ hope he hasn’t reverted to his old hobby….”

 

“Oh?  What’d he do?”

 

Tadashi flinched, having forgotten the man was there for a moment, and sheepishly grinned up at him.  “Ah, b—bot fighting?”

 

Bruce blinked.  “…Must’ve been fairly easy for him, what with his intelligence and proficiency for robotics.  But, aren’t a lot of gangs and yakuza involved in bot fights?”

 

“Now you see my dilemma.”

 

“Big brother complex, hm?”  He recognized the signs from Thor.  Even when Loki was being a bag of cats and trying to destroy the world, the blond Asgardian still wanted to help him.  “Or, _overprotective_ brother complex, I should say.”

 

Tadashi’s gaze dropped to the floor, hands fiddling in his lap.  “…Considering our parents died when he was practically a baby….”

 

“Hey.”  Bruce laid a hand on Tadashi’s shoulder, causing the young man to look up at him.  “I never said it was a bad thing.”

 

The college student gave a slight, nervous chuckle.  “Touché.”

 

“Keep talking,” Bruce said, grinning when he saw the younger man loosening up some.  “I’m sure you’ve got lots of stories about him.”

 

Now, the chuckle was a bit lighter.  “Well, there was this one time when he tried to put rocket boots on our cat—”

 

**_When we built these dreams on sand_ **

**_How they all sift through our hands_ **

**_This might be our only chance_ **

**_Let’s take this one day at a time_ **

**_I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine_ **

**_The time that we kill keeps us alive_ **

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for this chapter: time is wonky (kinda jumping around here to cover the reactions to everyone’s disappearances), lots of angst and panic attacks, Cass freaking out on an entire hospital, and slowly introducing the supporting characters (dammit so freaking many of them! And I realized just yesterday that I completely forgot Rhodey (whoops)). Oh, and a bit more Japanese, though mostly translated in-story or through context (if anyone notices any errors in the Japanese, please let me know! I’m working mostly from (bad) memory and Google translate).
> 
> This fic will eventually be upped to an M rating, but not for several chapters. I’ll give warnings when this happens.

**_I hate feeling like this_ **   


**_I’m so tired of trying to fight this_ **

**_I’m asleep and all I dream of_ **

**_Is waking to you_ **

  


Cass stared at the building before her, reading the sign for the fifth time to make sure she had the right place.  Santa Rosawa General Hospital.  According to the nurse on the phone, this is where she would find her supposedly-dead-for-a-year-but-really-comatose nephew.  She glanced down to her phone, checking the time and doing a quick conversion, sighing when she realized Hiro would be just about to land and likely still had his phone off.

  


She’d just call him after.  And she wouldn’t get his hopes up this way if the doctors were mistaken.

  


The baker squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath, and marching up to the door.

  


**_Tell me that you will listen_ **

**_Your touch is what I’m missing_ **

**_And the more I hide I realize I’m slowly losing you_ **

**_Comatose, I’ll never wake up without an overdose of you_ **

  


Pepper Potts was just this side of frantic.  Tony had promised to swing by Stark Industries before their meeting this afternoon so they could go over everything.  Even with his ridiculous reading speed and easy comprehension of just about anything he set his mind to, the four hour review was more to get his nerves out before he could possibly snark off to the wrong industry head during the meeting.

  


Another minute ticked away, and she called out the door.  “Happy?”

  


Happy Hogan poked his head in, obviously having been standing at the door, waiting for an order.  “Yes, ma’am?”

  


“Do you know where Tony is?  He’s two hours late.”  She huffed, grumbling to herself, “And while that used to be the norm around here, he’s gotten surprisingly better at arriving on time lately.”

  


Happy’s brow furrowed.  “…You don’t think he’s… relapsed, do you?”

  


She sighed.  “He _did_ mention wanting to hit a few bars last night, but I thought he was going with Rhodey.”

  


“Rhodey’s let him do stupid stuff before.”  He glanced over eagerly.  “Should I call in the cavalry?”

  


She shook her head.  “Not quite yet.”  Pepper’s eyes darted upwards, asking the AI built into the building, “Jarvis, any news on where Tony is?”

  


A British accent answered her.  _“I am afraid not, Ms. Potts.  He did head out to a local dive bar last night, but did not return home.”_

  


“Did he go with Rhodey?”

  


There was a moment of silence as Jarvis checked every available camera.  _“He did not, Ms. Potts.  Nor with any of his newly acquired SHIELD friends.”_

  


Pepper bit her lip.  “…Okay, _now_ we may have a situation….”

  


**_I don’t wanna live_ **

**_I don’t wanna breathe_ **

**_‘Less I feel you next to me_ **

**_You take the pain I feel_ **

**_Waking up to you never felt so real_ **

  


Cass marched straight up to the information desk upon entering the hospital.  “Excuse me,” she called to gain the receptionist’s attention, “I’m looking for a nurse Aja Rodrigo?  She called me concerning my nephew.”

  


“Name?” the receptionist asked, hands poised over the computer keys.

  


“Ah, mine’s Cass de Gaia, but my nephew is Tadashi Hamada.  He may still be in the system as a John Doe?  Year-long coma patient?”

  


The receptionist blinked, but typed quickly, muttering, “He finally woke up?  Thank God….”

  


Cass’ brow furrowed.  “You… know of him?”

  


“Uh, yeah, we all do,” the receptionist replied, blushing a bit from being overheard.  “Everyone’s been hoping he’d wake up, he’s the only coma patient we currently have, and we were getting concerned about needing to, well, move him out of the room soon—”

  


“ _Thank_ you, Debbie,” a nurse said as she approached.  She had noticed the color quickly draining from Cass’ face and realized that she’d correctly assumed what ‘moving him’ would’ve implied.  Still, the nurse smiled at the concerned aunt.  “Hi, you must be Cass.  I’m Aja, we spoke on the phone?”

  


Cass sighed in relief.  “Yes.  Please tell me I can see my nephew?”

  


Aja nodded.  “Of course, follow me.  He should have just come back from his scans.”

  


The two wandered down a hall, into an elevator, and up three floors before Cass asked, “So, why was he brought here rather than San Fransokyo General?”

  


“The night of the fire, there were also several bad pile-ups on the highways.  SF Gen had to shuttle many patients to other hospitals due to the overflow.  Your nephew was one of the patients transferred here.”

  


“That makes sense, I suppose.  But why weren’t we contacted?  There was nearly a week before Tadashi was switched from ‘missing’ to ‘considered dead’.”

  


“Apparently, when he was brought in, he was filed as one of the accident patients rather than from the fire.  We didn’t realize the mistake until after he was awake and told us what he remembered last.”

  


“He… he spoke to you about that…?”

  


Aja gave her a small, sad grin.  “It was part of the standard questions we had to ask.  It was hard to keep him focused on that, though, he kept going on about you and his brother and how worried you two must be.”

  


Cass smiled down at the floor.  “Yeah… yeah, that sounds like him….”

  


The two stopped before a door, and Aja motioned for Cass to take the handle.  “He’s inside.  Just let me know if you need anything, and try to avoid anything that may upset him, he’s still on some strong painkillers and confused, especially about the date.”

  


Cass nodded, slowly opening the door and peeking in, blinking at the darkness and hunting by the door for the light.  Once she found it, she flipped it on and turned around, smiling widely.  “There, that’s a bit better.  Now I can actually see—”

  


There was no one in the bed.  No Tadashi, no patient _at all_.

  


“W—What?!”

  


Aja came in at the exclamation, worried and asking what was wrong before her own eyes landed on the bed.  She immediately reached for a walkie talkie on her belt, calling into it, “We have a code yellow in recovery, repeat, code yellow!”

  


As nurses rushed about, trying to figure out what had happened and where Tadashi had gotten to, Cass suck to her knees, tears welling up in her eyes.

  


She’d lost him.  She’d just gotten him back, and he lost him already.

  


**_I don’t wanna sleep_ **

**_I don’t wanna dream_ **

**_‘Cause my dreams don’t comfort me_ **

**_The way you make me feel_ **

**_Waking up to you never felt so real_ **

  


Tadashi had talked until his voice gave out.  He was positive that Bruce would’ve made him shut up hours before now, but apparently the older man realized how much telling these stories of his and Hiro’s childhood was helping Tadashi forget their current situation.

  


But now, he’d run out of stories, and the weight crashed down on him again.  They were trapped by some psycho with no idea what his plot was.  They didn’t even know if they were here for some future plan or just left to rot.

  


A crash echoed down the hall.  Tadashi and Bruce shot each other a look and leaned against the door, trying to hear _anything_ else.

  


There was grumbling and a soft, raspy sound, followed closely by muffled yelling.  The door was too thick to fully understand what was said, but Tadashi could pick up bits and pieces.

  


_“—tai!  Hana—!  Dare ka!  Ta—kete kure!”_

  


His brow furrowed, the Japanese portion of his brain kicking into gear and filling in the holes.  Someone was hurt, they were begging to be let go, for help to come.

  


And he couldn’t help them.

  


**_I hate living without you_ **

**_Dead wrong to ever doubt you_ **

**_But my demons lay in waiting_ **

**_Tempting me away_ **

  


Harry Osborn was not one to give up easily.  Hell, he’d nearly killed his best friend in a misguided attempt to cure himself from his family’s “curse”—a genetic disease that had killed his father and grandfather and nearly took him out.

  


He’d only survived thanks to said best friend, Peter Parker, also known as Spiderman.  They’d had a long talk about why Peter’s blood likely would hurt rather than help without trial runs, and the two had worked out a plan for testing a transfer process.  They were even pretty damn close to a breakthrough.

  


Then Peter disappeared.  At first, Harry didn’t think much of it, assuming Peter was just busy doing patrols or something.  Peter often got sidetracked for a while, but they had another test set for the weekend, so he had a day or two to turn up.

  


Aunt May called on the third day, panicked and babbling about Peter leaving for groceries and not returning, and why wasn’t he answering her calls, and was he with Harry or had Harry heard from him recently?

  


After calming the elder woman, Harry immediately did his own research on his friend’s disappearance.

  


What he found was nothing.  Zilch.  Nada.  Zero.  No reports of Peter _or_ Spiderman in the past three days.

  


It took only seconds for him to set up a tip line and reward for any information on his friend.

  


Now to hope someone actually _had_ information….

  


**_Oh how I adore you_ **

**_Oh how I thirst for you_ **

**_Oh how I need you_ **

**_Comatose, I’ll never wake up without an overdose of you_ **

  


Pepper had sent Happy to start searching, shoving her papers to the side and canceling all her appointments for the day.  With that done, she immediately pulled up the contact she was given to reach the Black Widow and dialed.

  


“ _Romanoff.”_

  


“Hi, Natasha?  I know you must be busy but—”

  


A sigh crackled over the line.  _“What’d the Iron Idiot do now?”_

  


“Ah, well, he apparently went missing after bar hopping last night….”

  


_“Dammit, so Bruce isn’t the only one….”_

  


“Wait, _what?_ ”  Pepper covered the phone, jabbing at the PA button on her desk and hissing, “Happy, get back here!”  She uncovered the phone, rattling off, “Are you sure?  I know he’s often off the radar to begin with but—”

  


_“He hasn’t checked in in nearly a week.”_

  


“Really?”

  


Happy rushed in.  “What’s wrong now?”

  


Pepper covered the mouthpiece again.  “Bruce is missing, too.  For nearly a week.”

  


Happy was scowling.  “Peachy.  If Big Man’s AWOL, you _know_ something’s up.”

  


_“Pepper?”_

  


Potts startled, quickly mumbling into the phone, “Ah, no, I’m still here, just—”

  


_“We’ve gotten no ransom yet for Bruce.  If it’s the same person, you probably won’t get anything, either.”_

  


“Really?  Perfect….”

  


_“Keep an eye out.  SHIELD’s got as many agents as we can spare on this.”_

  


“Will do.  Good luck.”

  


_“You, too.”_

  


The phone clicked off, and Pepper hung up, turning back to Happy and relaying the information.  Once she had, her lips pursed.  “We need to start our own search.  Tony might have been taken for his intelligence, maybe someone is trying to get him to recreate the Iron Man suits.”  She nodded to herself, figuring that if both Bruce and Tony were gone, it was likely someone wanted them to build something.  “See if you can ind any news stories on people using suits like his, and I’ll see if I can find any other missing reports that could be connected.”

  


Happy nodded.  “Right.”  He started out the door, but paused before exiting fully and glanced back at Pepper, worry written across his face.  “Anything else?”

  


“…Find him, Happy.  Please.”

  


**_I don’t wanna live_ **

**_I don’t wanna breathe_ **

**_‘Less I feel you next to me_ **

**_You take the pain I feel_ **

**_Waking up to you never felt so real_ **

  


Cass stormed into the café after finally returning from the hospital.  She’d spent nearly an hour yelling at the nursing staff for losing her nephew and another half hour demanding proof that it even _was_ Tadashi and not just some impersonator or someone who’d been confused.  The hour-long drive back was spent seething, and now, she was just _done_.  She flipped the sign from ‘closed’ back to ‘open’ and moved over to the donut rack.  “Stupid prank calls and stupid hallucinating med staff…” she grumbled to herself as she tore into a powdered sugar donut.

  


“…Something wrong, Aunt Cass?”

  


The woman jumped, yelping, and almost dropped her donut as she spun to face the voice.  “W—Wasabi!”  She threw up a fake smile, for once cursing the fact she’d given all of Hiro’s friends a key to the café/house.  “Hi!  Wh—What’re you doing here?”

  


Wasabi winced.  “S—Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.  But… Hiro didn’t show up for classes today, so I was wondering if there was something going on or if he was sick…?”

  


“Oh.”  Cass ran a hand through her hair, sighing.  Hiro.  Thank God she hadn’t told him or this whole Tadashi’s-alive-but-not-really thing would’ve just—It wasn’t worth thinking on.  “No, nothing’s—nothing’s wrong,” she murmured.  “He went to visit his grandparents in Japan.  He left late last night.”  She looked at her watch, seeing that it was a bit after two p.m., about six a.m. for Hiro.  “With the time difference, he’ll still be sleeping, though his grandparents should be waking up soon.”

  


“Oh, okay.  Glad he’s able to get some time away.”  There was a moment’s pause, then Wasabi glanced over at Cass again.  “Um, what was that about hallucinating hospital staff?”

  


She huffed, taking another chunk out of her donut.  “I go’ a call f’om a hos’al ‘at ‘ada’hi was foun’,” she mumbled, mouth full.

  


Wasabi stared blankly, blinking.  “R—Really?”  He shook his head, trying to focus.  “But you… you said they prank called?  What happened?”

  


Cass swallowed her mouthful.  “I went all the way over there, only to find that there wasn’t anyone there.  It was all some prank.”

  


The college student bit his lip, knowing that her denial was more about coping with possibly losing Tadashi again than about actually believing it was some trick.  “But… hospitals usually don’t do pranks.  Particularly something like this.”  He glanced over at her.  “Did anyone act like you were mistaken in going there?”

  


“Well… no, but—but he—he wasn’t there, and no one could tell me what was going on!”  The tears were starting up again.

  


Wasabi noticed, nervous and unused to a distraught Aunt Cass.  Even during the funeral, she didn’t really let herself cry because she was too worried for Hiro.  “Uh….”

  


“Oh, Wasabi, do you think I left too quickly?  Maybe—Maybe he was actually there and I—I just didn’t see him?”  She was latching onto his arm now, practically begging for things to be okay.

  


He gave a slight shrug with his free arm.  “I suppose that’s _possible_.  I can check into it, if you want.”

  


“P—Please,” she sniffled.  “If—If Hiro comes home and finds out I—I just wrote it off as a joke when—when T—when he’s really _alive…._ ”

  


Wasabi patted her shoulder gently.  “Don’t worry, Aunt Cass.  Whatever the case is, I’ll find out.  If you talk with Hiro, try to act like there’s nothing… wrong….”

  


“R—Right….”

  


He gave her a teasing smirk.  “Besides, if you keep stress eating, there might not be a café for _either_ of them to come back to.”

  


She blushed, releasing his arm and brushing the crumbs off of her clothes while changing the subject.  “Ah, wh—where are th—the others?  D—Do they have classes today, or…?”

  


“They should be here soon.  My classes finish first today.”

  


Cass nodded.  “Right, okay, I’ll—I’ll just work on some more baked goods for when the customers come back in….”

  


“Okay.  Need a hand with anything?”

  


“N—No!” she quickly snapped.  At Wasabi’s surprised look, she mumbled, “No, it’s fine.  Just—Just sit, get comfortable, let me know if you’d like anything to eat or drink.”

  


Wasabi smiled weakly, still a bit shocked but remembering Tadashi telling them once that baking was Cass’ go-to when she was worried and couldn’t stress-eat.  “Will do, Aunt Cass.”

  


She began bustling about, moving between the kitchen and the tables as people started coming back in for a late lunch rush.

  


Mere moments later, the door was shoved open and Gogo blazed in on her skates, calling a greeting to Cass before grabbing a chair as a fulcrum to spin around and into another chair.

  


“Don’t ruin my café!” Cass ordered with a soft chuckle.

  


“No promises!”

  


Wasabi sighed.  “Practicing for a drive-in server position, Gogo?”

  


She rolled her eyes back.  “No, Hiro asked me to test out the newest version of my electromag skates.  Surprisingly, they’re almost faster than my bike.”

  


Honey flounced in then, greeting Cass happily and being directed over to the booth the others were at.  She sat beside them, grinning wildly.

  


“‘Sup with you?” Gogo asked, recognizing the smile as Honey’s I-just-did-something-dangerous-but-awesome look.

  


“I nearly blew up the lab today!” she declared.

  


Wasabi and Gogo shared a quick, long-suffering look before Gogo commented, “Isn’t that usually a, I dunno, _bad_ thing?”

  


“But it proved my thesis!”

  


Wasabi shook his head.  “Let me guess, fire is fun?”

  


“More ice than fire.”

  


There was another pause as the two gaped at the chemist.  “Okay, I’m _definitely_ having your thesis advisor sent to the psych department,” Gogo stated.  “This guy should _not_ be encouraging your proclivity towards explosions.”

  


“How’d you manage to nearly blow up the lab with _ice?_ ” Wasabi hissed, stunned and barely keeping from yelping.

  


“There’s certain chemicals that allow ice to ‘burn’, so I decided to see if I could put together a compound to cause ice to explode.  It was actually much simpler than I thought it would be.”

  


“…I’m sending _you_ to the psych department, too…” Gogo grumbled, sinking her chin onto a hand.

  


Wasabi sighed.  “…Just when I think nothing will surprise me….”

  


Fred walked in at that moment, flopping down next to the others.  “Afternoon, _mi amis!_   That’s German, for—”

  


“No, it really isn’t,” Honey quickly cut him off.

  


He didn’t drop his grin, instead nudging the blonde with an elbow.  “So, I hear Honey’s still testing the limits of our lab!”

  


Gogo groaned, throwing her hands up in defeat.  “You _both_ need to see the school psychiatrist, I _swear!_ ”

  


A phone rang from the kitchen, and Cass moved off to get it.  Wasabi noticed and watched, the others catching on that something was amiss.

  


“Okay,” Gogo said, glancing between Cass and Wasabi, “what’s up?”

  


Wasabi sighed.  “…Tadashi might be alive.”

  


They all blinked at him, in varying stages of shock, from Gogo’s blank look to Fred’s gaped jaw and Honey’s hands thrown over her mouth.

  


“Come again?”

  


“She got a call a while ago, saying Tadashi was alive, but when she got to the hospital… no Tadashi.”  He shrugged helplessly.  “Seems they were just as… confused as she was.”

  


“Have we dropped into some crazy backwards world?” Gogo demanded.

  


“How could he have been missing for so long without Cass finding out before now?” Honey murmured through her hands.

  


Wasabi shrugged again.  “Beats me.  Maybe he was critical for a while?  In and out?  Medically-induced coma?  Your guess is as good as mine.”

  


“Well—”

  


“ _What?!_   A—Are you _sure?!_ ” Cass’ yell echoed through the café, causing the customers to fidget, unsure what to do.  A few of the regulars looked torn between helping Cass and trying to get the other customers out so she could have some peace.

  


Mrs. Matsuda, an eighty-plus-year-old dressed in a ridiculously short skirt and a top with a plunging neckline, rapped her cane against her table, barking, “A’righ’, a’righ’, eberyone outo.  Retto Cassu habe some puribacy.”  The group quickly obeyed the tiny but fierce woman, and she flipped the sign back to closed on her way out, gesturing to the Nerd Squad with her head to tend to Cass.

  


Honey excused herself to go to Cass, who had dropped the phone and fell into a seat, sobbing into her hands.

  


“Damn,” Gogo hissed.  “Like she really needed _more_ bad news….”

  


“What d’you think the call was about?” Fred wondered, the far-off look in his eye telling them he’d already come up with dozens of conspiracies.

  


“Maybe something more about Tadashi?”

  


Wasabi shook his head slowly.  “I dunno.  She’d be a bit more… antsy about that, given how angry it’d mad her.  This seems more… what, generally anxious?”

  


Cass sobbed louder, latching onto Honey in a hug and mumbling incoherently into her shoulder.

  


“…Yeah, I think we passed anxious a few minutes ago….”

  


“What’s going on, Honey?” Wasabi asked as the rest headed over.

  


Honey rubbed the woman’s back, rocking gently to try to calm her.  “That—That was Hiro’s grandparents on the phone.  He—He never showed up at their house.”

  


**_I don’t wanna sleep_ **

**_I don’t wanna dream_ **

**_‘Cause my dreams don’t comfort me_ **

**_The way you make me feel_ **

**_Waking up to you never felt so real_ **

  


Bruce and Tadashi both tried to open the door, hoping to get out and help the, by the sounds of it, kid outside.  The whole time, the newcomer was yelling frantically in Japanese, easier to hear now that he was closer to their door.

  


For a moment, Tadashi thought that the kid might be thrown in with them, but instead they heard another crashing noise, a yelp, and a door slamming.  There was a slight pause, probably the psycho saying something to the newcomer, then the sound of someone walking away.

  


Then the pounding began.  It was faint, obviously the kid didn’t have much strength, but he was trying to be heard, eventually yelling as well.  “ _Sono koto o suru to!  Tasukete, kaeritai!”_

  


Tadashi winced.  The poor kid was terrified.

  


Bruce glanced over.  “Any chance you can translate?”

  


Hamada blinked.  “Um, what?”

  


“You speak Japanese, right?”

  


“Oh, um, y—yeah.”  Tadashi shook his head, trying to refocus.  “He’s calling for help.  Says he wants to go home.”

  


Bruce winced now, too.  “Damn.  Doesn’t sound like he’s even out of high school, the poor kid….”

  


“…Yeah….”

  


_“Yarou!”_ the screech echoed out, followed by a flurry of banging.  _“Sotoni detara, bukorosu!”_

  


Tadashi shook his head.  “And now he’s threatening the guy….”

  


The banging was getting louder, more frantic.

  


Bruce shot a glance over at Tadashi.  “You—You don’t think he’s, uh, c—claustrophobic, do you?”

  


Tadashi winced.  “For his sake, I hope not.”

  


_“Biggu hiirou roku wa boku wo sagashiteru ka mo!”_   It sounded like the kid was panting now, hitched breaths managing to be heard between his beating at the door.  _“Kuso, robotto shika kaeshinakutemo!  Mo ii yo!”_

  


The college student blinked.  “Huh.”

  


“What?” Bruce asked, glancing over at him.

  


“Sounds like he’s got people looking for him, and some kinda robotic friend.”

  


“Robot?”

  


Tadashi nodded.  “Sounds important to him, too.”

  


Bruce shrugged.  “If it’s one he made himself, he’s probably attached.  Or a companion bot.  If he really _is_ claustrophobic, or even just generally panicking in there, he’s likely just wanting reassurance from someone—er, some _thing_ he knows.”

  


The pounding was slowing, and there was a scraping noise now, probably from the kid sliding down the door.  Then, a very faint mumble, _“Ni—Nii—Nii-chan, tasuke—kete ku—kure….”_

  


Tadashi flinched, rubbing at the back of his neck.  “Poor kid, missing his big brother….”  He sighed, massaging his forehead.  “…At least Hiro’s safe at home….”

  


The noise had dissolved into just sniffles and soft sobs.

  


“…I’m thinking my claustrophobia guess was pretty much right….”

  


The coma patient looked over to Bruce.  “Is this how… _he_ feels in tight spaces?”

  


Bruce blinked at first, then shrugged.  “Kind of, but he can usually, uh, make a quick exit.  The kid over there… he’s gonna be stuck for who knows how long….”

  


**_Breathing life_ **

**_Waking up_ **

**_My eyes open up_ **

**_Comatose_ **

**_I’ll never wake up without an overdose of you_ **

  


Contrary to popular belief, Happy Hogan knew his way around technology.  He had to, being the personal bodyguard of the most innovative technological genius of the time.  And his CEO, who also knew technology well.  So, when he realized that he would get nowhere just roaming the streets and following leads that were a day or two old, he instead turned to the Stark Industries private computers.  “Jarvis, access the security cameras of whatever bars Tony was at the night of his disappearance.”

  


_“Yes, Mr. Hogan.  Displaying footage now.”_

  


Surprisingly enough, only one bar popped up on screen, four cameras focused on different sections of the establishment.  “Huh, didn’t get to the ‘hopping’ part of the night, then….”  Happy searched through the images, trying to spot his boss.  When he finally found Tony, he ordered Jarvis to speed up the footage.

  


For about half an hour, he stared at the screen, watching his boss get steadily sloshed, accepting drinks from nearly everyone at the bar.  Happy rolled his eyes, grumbling, “I thought he was done with this idiocy when he hooked up with Pepper….”

  


He was so annoyed, he nearly missed Tony leaving.  “Woah, woah, back up some Jarvis, then regular speed.”

  


_“Of course, Mr. Hogan.”_

  


The footage played back, and Happy traced Tony’s staggering route from the bar to the door.  His boss basically bumped into every item in his way, giggling far more than normal, even for being wasted.  “That’s not right,” Happy mumbled.  “Jarvis, anyway you can read stats off here?”

  


_“If you are referring to Sir’s inebriated state, he is displaying far worse loss of perception than he should for the amount of alcohol consumed.”_

  


“Damn….”  So someone drugged him.  Too bad he’d accepted drinks from pretty much _everyone_ , making Happy’s suspect pool ridiculously large.  He huffed a sigh.  “Well, that’s a bust, then.  No cameras covering the outside, so we don’t know what happened between him leaving and getting snatched….”

  


_“Would you prefer to switch to Ms. Potts’ suggestion of searching for suits now?”_

  


“Yes, please.”

  


_“Running a search for all mentions of enhanced full-body fight suits.”_

  


Newspaper articles covered the screens, and Happy sighed and started to sift through them.  “Mm, most of these are about Tony and Rhodey….”

  


Then he struck gold.  “What’s this?”

  


Jarvis pulled the article up, zooming in so it took up the whole screen.  _“A group of local heroes in San Fransokyo seem to be using similar suits as Sir’s.”_

  


Happy read through the article, something about a near crash of the trolley system.  “Jarvis, print this out and get copies to Pepper.  Looks like I’m heading to California.”

  


**_Oh how I adore you_ **

**_Waking up to you never felt so real_ **

**_Oh how I thirst for you_ **

**_Waking up to you never felt so real_ **

  


Oh, Gods, oh, Gods, the walls were closing in on him.  It had to have been _hours_ since he was dragged here and locked inside this cell, with walls at least ten feet high, but then they seemed to _drop_ onto him as time slipped by.

  


The ceiling was brushing against his hair.  The walls were pressing into his sides.  No windows, no bars, even the door had merged seamless with the _wallswallswalls…._

  


Hiro curled in on himself even tighter, dry heaving as he tried to drag in some air from the cramped space, but it was no good.  He had no air.

  


There were only _walls_.

  


Time continued to tick by, or at least, Hiro assumed it did, given time machines and technology to freeze time just didn’t exist yet, but still he was trapped, suffocating, being squished slowly to death by these walls….

  


Then he started to smell smoke.

  


His breathing hitched, ratcheting up into hyperventilation, trying to get in all the air he could before the fire consumed it, panicking that _Oh Gods, the others aren’t here to save me this time, Tadashi isn’t here, I’m going to die, burn to death just like—_

  


_“So, does this mean we’re in Japan?!”_

  


Hiro’s breath caught again, choking on a sob as he blinked away tears he hadn’t realized had formed.  There were people here.  _He was saved!_

  


Or, quite possibly, he was going insane and hearing things that weren’t actually there….  It was likely 50/50 either was true.

  


_“Possible,”_ another voice came, from the opposite direction, _“but I wouldn’t count on it….”_

  


“Th—There’s others out th—there?” Hiro called quietly, still trying to gain control over his breathing.

  


_“Yeah, you’re not alone, kiddo,”_ a different voice replied, coming from the same direction as the first.

  


“Ari—” Hiro cut himself off, shaking his head and trying not to think of how close he’d come to scraping his cheeks against the too-close walls.  English, these people spoke English.  “Er, th—thank you.”

  


_“No prob, kid,”_ the first answered.  _“Now, unless I’m mistaken, I heard the word ‘robot’ earlier, yeah?”_

  


“Nihongo o hanaseru?!” Hiro asked eagerly, the Japanese portion of his language center still mostly in control due to his trip.

  


_“…What?”_

  


The third voice chuckled.  _“You seriously weren’t expecting him to think you knew Japanese?”_

  


_“Shut it, brat.”_

  


_“I doubt he does,”_ the second voice stated.  _“Most likely just knows the word ‘robot’ in multiple languages.”_

  


Hiro folded his arms, keeping his eyes closed to avoid seeing the walls brush against his sleeves.  “Aho dayo.  Omae wa….”

  


_“…Was that an insult?”_ the first voice demanded.  _“That sounded like an insult!”_

  


Hiro couldn’t help but tease back, “Kamo ne!”

  


The second voice chuckled, and Hiro decided he _definitely_ liked the second voice better.  Y’know, provided it actually _was_ a person and not just a hallucination.

  


_“Seriously, this kid’s insulting me!”_  

  


Okay, the dude was just asking for it now.  “Baka busu, baka baka busu!”

  


The laughter got even louder.  _“So, he’s pot, you’re kettle, right?”_

  


Never mind, the second voice sucked.  “Chigau yo!”

  


_“Atarimae yo, nakkuru!”_

  


Hiro gasped, jolting upwards before remembering the closed-in walls and tripping over in his rush to avoid hitting them.  A clatter echoed around the tiny room as he fell, but he still stammered out, “Na—Nakkuru?!”

  


Why—How—How did this person, this random _voice_ know Tadashi’s nickname for him?!

  


Guess that just proves they were hallucinations.  Hiro should’ve realized he wasn’t going to be rescued.  Hell, his friends only barely made it last time, they sure as hell weren’t gonna get to him _now_ , when he was supposed to be safe at his grandparents’ house….

  


The smoke smell grew stronger around him, seeping into the cell and taking up his valuable air space.

  


_“Okay,”_ the first voice broke in, _“is there a Japanese version of the SAP button, ‘cause I am lost.”_

  


_“Sorry, dude,”_ said the Japanese-speaking voice, _“some things are best left untranslated.”_

  


There was a huff, then the first voice grumbled, _“You brats suck.  This is why Pepper and I aren’t having any.”_

  


A fourth voice gasped from the same direction as the second voice.  _“Pepper—?_ ** _Tony?!_** _”_

  


_“…Bruce?”_ the first voice asked.  _“Dude, why not just smash your way out?!”_

  


_“Can’t,”_ the newest voice replied.  _“Big Guy’s sleeping.”_

  


_“The hell kinda excuse is_ **_that?!_ ** _”_

  


_“No excuse,”_ the second voice, the Japanese voice, the impersonator, shot back.  Hiro shrunk in on himself even more, whimpering.  _“Our illustrious host obviously did his homework.  Gave our friend, here, a dose of_ ** _something_** _that keeps the Big Guy in dreamworld.”_

  


The third voice grumbled, _“Just_ ** _perfect_** _….”_

  


Hearing the other voices argue finally pulled Hiro out of his own mind long enough to question them.  “Big Guy?  What are you talking about?!”

  


_“Kid,”_ the first voice called, _“you’re in the presence of_ ** _greatness!_** _…Or, well, in a cell adjacent to greatness….”_

  


_“He’s talking about himself, isn’t he, Bruce?”_

  


_“He’s_ **_always_ ** _talking about himself.”_

  


_“I would disagree, but it’s true,”_ the first voice admitted.

  


Hiro couldn’t take any more of this.  “What the hell’s going on?!” he screeched.

  


But the others were ignoring him now.

  


_“At least he’s honest?”_

  


_“Yeah, he’s a regular George Washington.”_

  


“Oshiete kure!  _IMASUGU!!_ ”  Hiro slammed a fist back into the wall.

  


_“Seriously, we_ ** _know_** _you can speak English,”_ the first voice huffed, _“so fricking_ ** _speak English!_** _”_

  


_“Koko wa nihonjanai,”_ the second voice answered softly.

  


Hiro blinked, digging a hand into his hair in disbelief.  “Oh, man… my grandparents are gonna freak….”

  


_“My girlfriend will put out a rescue squad for me,”_ the first voice—Tony, one had said—bragged.

  


“Well, how _great_ for you, then,” Hiro spat back, trying to ignore the fact that he was arguing with what were most likely hallucinations.

  


_“Sounded like you had your own search and rescue group, kiddo.”_

  


_“Some robo friend, right?”_ The third voice scoffed, _“Not much help if he let you get caught.”_

  


Okay, it didn’t matter how freaked out Hiro was, _no one_ insults Baymax.  “He is _too_ helpful!” he snarled.  “More than any of you would know!!”

  


_“Yeah, kid, sure.”_

  


“I’m serious!”

  


_“In any case,”_ the fourth voice—Bruce, maybe?—cut in, trying to play peacemaker, _“we’re still stuck he—”_

  


There was a clang, and suddenly the wall—door—fell out from behind Hiro.

  


“ _Hiiiiiii!!_ ”

  


_CRASH_

  


Someone moseyed out from a door at one end of the hall, smirking down at Hiro as he rubbed his head, grumbling, “Itaiiiii….”

  


The man chuckled, stating, “Yo, kiddo, this is why you don’t lean against doors.”

  


“Urusee!” Hiro huffed back.

  


Another person came out from a door at the opposite end of the hall, scolding, “Tony, can’t you leave the poor kid alone for five minutes?!”

  


Wait… Tony?  And that sounded like Bruce….

  


“Hmmm….”  Tony thought it over for a moment, then shook his head.  “Nah.”

  


Holy hell, he _wasn’t_ hallucinating them?!

  


Another person, this one only a couple years older than Hiro himself, came from Tony’s door, locking eyes with Hiro.  “You okay?”

  


The oldest one, Bruce, came and kneeled in front of Hiro, both to check his eyes and reactions and to separate him and Tony.  “He seems okay,” he declared.

  


“Just bumped my head is all,” Hiro mumbled.

  


Tony smirked.  “Wish I’d seen that, I could use a good laugh.”

  


“I. _Will_. Hurt. You.”

  


The unnamed one grinned at Hiro.  “Leave that to our host, whoever _that_ is….”

  


“Some jackass with bright red hair and creepy yellow eyes,” Hiro answered with a shrug.

  


Tony blinked.  “Wait, you _saw_ him?!”

  


The unnamed one, the third voice, Hiro realized, shrugged.  “He certainly seems more lucid than any of us were.”

  


“That’d be ‘cause I was awake.”

  


“He didn’t tranq you?” Bruce asked at the same time Tony demanded, “He didn’t drug you?”

  


Hiro rolled his eyes.  “Nope.  Threatened me with a knife and—”  He seemed to choke himself off for a second, then shook his head and finished, “And made me get in a van.”

  


“Dam—”

  


“O—Otouto?”

  


Tony and the third voice turned to see the last member of their little hostage situation coming into the hallway.  Bruce’s eyes widened as he glanced between the two Asian-Americans.

  


Hiro’s eyes were the size of hockey pucks when he slowly turned, gasping.

  


“N—Nii-chan?”

  


**_Oh how I adore you, ohhhh_ **

**_The way you make me feel_ **

**_Waking up to you never felt so real_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I just really, really wanted that to be the last line in this chapter and for a while, I thought that’d make this be a ridiculously short chapter, but I kept remembering a bunch of stuff that needed to happen with supporting characters, so I’m now happy with length. I doubt the next chapter will be out this quick, 4-H Fair is coming up so I’ve got a ton of stuff to accomplish, then family vacation for a week, so mid August will likely be the next update, though I’ll hopefully get a buffer set up and be able to post fairly regularly after that.
> 
> Japanese translations - 
> 
> —tai! Hana—! Dare ka! Ta—kete kure! - (Itai! Hanase! Dare ka! Tasukete kure) - It hurts! Let go! Help!  
> Sonna koto o suru to… Tasukete, kaeritai - You can’t do this! Help! I want to go home!  
> Sotoni detara, bukorosu - Asshole! When I get out of here, I’ll kill you!  
> Biggu hiirou roku wa boku wo sagashiteru ka mo! - Big Hero 6 will be looking for me!  
> Kuso, robotto shika kaeshinakutemo! Mo ii yo! - Dammit! At least give me back my robot!  
> Nii-chan, tasukete kure - Big brother, help please  
> Nihongo o hanaseru?! - You speak Japanese?!  
> Aho dayo. Omae wa. - Geez, you’re an idiot.  
> Kamo ne. - Maybe yes, maybe no  
> Baka busu, baka baka busu! - a teasing song, means ugly idiot  
> Chigau yo!- Hey, I am not!  
> Atarimae yo, nakkuru! - Yes, you are, knucklehead!  
> Oshiete kure! Imasugu!! - Explain! Now!  
> AKoko wa nihonjanai - You’re not in Japan, kid  
> Urusee - Shut up, jackass!
> 
> Some words will be used a lot, so I’ll only be listing them here the first time, like nii-chan or itai, etc.

**Author's Note:**

> Um. Yeah. I wanted to end on a slightly happy note, I guess? And I didn’t like having Hiro’s last scene as the end of the chapter. Anyways, yeah, chapter story, ridiculous amount of Japanese, which should be fairly self-explanatory, but if not, translations are below.
> 
> So, Hiro’s birthday is March 28th in this universe. This means that, for him to have graduated at 13 and be 14 in the movie, he was out of school for about a year and a half. Also, he would’ve turned 15 just after the movie. This makes him 15-going-on-16 here, having done a full year now of college. Won’t Tadashi be proud?
> 
> Santa Rosawa is a play on Santa Rosa and Fujisawa (chosen mostly because it made the best mash-up that I could find). Santa Rosa really is about an hour from San Francisco.
> 
> The monorail and train/speedline mentioned in Hiro’s long scene are real, and are what one would take when heading to certain parts of Ikeda from the Osaka International Airport. There really are a couple shrines in a forest-y area in Ikeda, and I have Hiro’s grandparents living a short distance away from the Atago shrine and Satsukiyama Park. I’ve not been to the area (or Japan, or San Francisco) at all, so I’m relying heavily on Google Maps for all info on the walk and such. Hiro’d actually gotten to the last little stretch before he hit the forest when he got kidnapped, so he was within five minutes of being safe and sound. Poor kid.
> 
> Baymax did not activate at Hiro’s hiss because of some tweaking Hiro did to his activation. In the movie, it seemed to only be at the word ‘Ow’, and Hiro probably expanded that some, but at the same time, he wouldn’t want any little noise to activate Baymax unnecessarily.
> 
> Tadashi’s survival and the reason why he was in Santa Rosawa will be explained in the next couple chapters.
> 
> IMPORTANT: I wanna know whether you guys would prefer longer chapters (6-10K words) or shorter chapters (2-5K words) for this story. I can do either, but longer chapters may take a little longer to update, and shorter chapters would likely only be two or three scenes per chapter. Please let me know, it’ll help me finish plotting out the story and get chapters out fairly regularly.
> 
> Japanese translations - 
> 
> Jiji wa jinja no tonari ni sunderu - Grandpa lives by a shrine  
> Doushita? - What? What’s wrong?  
> Omae no—? - Your—?  
> Kuso - damn  
> Ano - um  
> Nigero! - run away!  
> Daijoubukashira? - Do you think he’s okay?  
> Daijoubu, arigatou - Fine, thanks  
> Gomen, gomen - sorry, sorry  
> Hontou? - really?  
> Hontou dayo! - I’m serious!  
> Iine - awesome  
> Urayamashii - That’s lucky  
> Minna daijoubu? - Hello, is everyone alright?  
> Nani?! - what?!
> 
> Super big thanks to Savannah Silverstone for help with the Japanese!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, please review!


End file.
